


Bridges

by mayoho



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Convoluted Philosophical Discusions, Gen, I want Steve and Tony to be friends with serious disagreements, Is that really too much to ask?, Natasha is still my favorite even if she is barely in this, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:19:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayoho/pseuds/mayoho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers should be asking Tony Stark for a favor. Instead he tries to get in Natasha's head, has an argument, and observes Tony's endless supply of facial expressions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridges

Steve finds himself standing at parade rest in Tony Stark’s bright and futuristic office. Stark is smiling--too polite; something shark-like lurks behind it, sniffing for blood in the water. Steve doesn’t know Stark well enough to know if he looks at everyone like that or if it is a special look reserved for Steve. 

“How may I be of assistance, Elsa?” Tony’s smile is now downright predatory and Steve can’t help the line that deepens between his brows. Natasha should be doing this; by all accounts she gets on remarkably well with Stark--all things considered. Steve suspects Natasha is both having a laugh at his expense and has a legitimate tactical purpose for forcing the two of them into a room together in Stark’s territory. Probably to get the inevitable pissing contest out of the way now instead of later when they are forced together to save the world (again). Steve would be furious, but as always, Natasha has an insightful and valid point.

“You haven’t seen Frozen?” Tony looks mock offended now. Steve hates every single one of Tony’s multitude of false facial expressions. “You must like Disney, that was a thing in the 30s.”

Steve crosses his arms and glares. “Fine, tall and menacing. What do you want? Or did you come all the way up here to glare at me? You can leave then; glaring is bad for my complexion.”

“You gave repulsor tech to SHIELD.” That was not at all what Steve is supposed to say, unless he is right about Natasha’s end game in sending him here instead of going herself. Then he has said exactly the right thing; he is overthinking this, badly.

Steve is surprised to catch the slightest flicker of genuine expression--a shocked, hurt look--before Tony schools his features into cool, calculating indifference. “Let me get this straight. You have a problem with me selling technology, which in case you missed it, I had to spend a small fortune dredging out of the Potomac, to an intelligence agency you work for?”

“Worked for.”

“Sure, whatever. Look Steven,” the level of condescension Tony could achieve was really impressive, “I don’t owe you an explanation of my entirely above-the-board business practices.”

Steve stops himself before he says, ‘Sure you do, I’m Captain Fucking America,’ but he quickly decides that is much better than ‘I thought we were on the same page about personal freedom and giving advanced weapons technologies to secret organizations after the Tesseract’ so he says it anyway.

Tony is smiling a real smile now--a terrifying one that speaks of taking things apart and just maybe finding them interesting enough to bother putting back together. 

“That’s how you’re going to play this?” Tony is standing in front of him now, instead of lounging with his loaferred feet propped up on his entirely empty desk. He tips his head to the side, posture slipping out of confrontational like a snake shedding a skin. “I’ll admit that was not what I was expecting. You--Captain Fucking America who swears by the way, good to know--have the right to demand explanations from me. That doesn’t seem very free and democratic and due-proccessy or whatever else you’re supposed to stand for.”

“I do, and I’m not sure about the other thing, but it certainly sounds free and democratic to me.” Tony tips his head back in the other direction, his eyes huge and searching. After taking a moment to decide not to engage Tony in a staring contest, Steve continues, “Can’t have those without accountability, and with HYRDA--without SHIELD--we’re going to have to be accountable to each other and everyone else who cares to ask. That’s the only way this works--no more secrets.”

Tony manages to simultaneously stiffen and deflate. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and shakes his head for several seconds before he speaks. 

“You are insane,” Tony looks vaguely impressed. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but you are completely insane and I don’t say that lightly.”

Steve lets out an audible sigh. It’s not an agreement or a resolution even, but it sounds enough like mutual understanding--he’ll have to take it. “Natasha wanted me to ask for a favor--apparently she needs some computer assistance.”

Tony looks like a kid on Christmas; Steve supposes a problem tricky enough to stump Natasha could be considered a sort of present. “She’s a better hacker than I am, what does she want?”

“Something about data processing--needing more computing power, Stark satellites, and a better algorithm.”

Tony nods speculatively. “That’s all she gave you?”

Steve shrugs. Natasha works in mysterious ways; he’ll let Tony puzzle out what she’s trying to achieve with this one. 

“Fine, I’ll be in touch; buy you both--and the guy with the wings, I assume he’s in on this too--dinner if Natasha is going to be coy.”

Tony makes a dismissive shooing gesture and Steve turns to leave. “Anna is the one who gets frozen.”

Tony looks at Steve--he doesn’t have a word for Tony’s slightly wide eyed expression, it’s too multi-faceted for shock. “You should move into the tower, bring the rest of your gang; can’t imagine you’ll be home much, might as well save on rent.”

“You know, we just might take you up on that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I have ever finished writing without being required to turn it in for a grade (I am so impressed by all of you who write such long things, but I am also stupidly proud of myself (it's only like 800 words, not at all objectively impressive)). 
> 
> Present tense is weird--why do I keep writing in it?
> 
>  
> 
> Con-crit/feedback of any kind is welcome and appreciated.


End file.
